


Please Don't Touch

by slashyslash



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brian Banner is an asshole, Brian Banner's A+ Parenting, Bruce Feels, Bruce Has Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Poor Bruce Banner, Protective Tony Stark, emotional scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:50:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashyslash/pseuds/slashyslash
Summary: Tony doesn't know why Bruce can't stand to be touched. He doesn't know the hurt Bruce has suffered in the past. All he knows is that every time someone tries to touch him, the guy freezes up. If only he could help his friend stand up for himself instead of trying to convince everyone that it's okay, that they can do whatever they like to him. It's as if Bruce has no ownership over his own body, and that worries Tony a lot. How will he help his best friend? And why is he like that anyway?





	1. A (Mostly) Hands-Off House

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sick today, bored out of my skull, and decided to start a (probably fairly short) fan fic. Please let me know what you think in the comments!

He had told the others not to touch Bruce – “This is a hands-off house, guys,” he had said – but the truth was Tony himself had a hard time sticking to his own rule and, being a touchy-feely guy, he found himself at least a few times a week slinging an arm around his pal, ruffling that curly hair, or moving in for a spontaneous hug for no good reason except that he felt like showing the love. And every time he regretted it. Every single, terrible time. Because inevitably Bruce would stiffen, squeeze his eyes shut, whimper… sometimes even duck away as if the hand were coming at his face rather than giving him a gentle pat on the arm.  


Tony, or whomever had caused the reaction, would apologize profusely, pulling away – which, for all his stiffening and flinching, was something Bruce never did – but he would reassure them. “No, no, it’s okay,” he would say, “you can touch me if you want.”  


It was always “if you want.” The words made Tony uncomfortable. It was as if what Bruce wanted didn’t matter. Clearly he didn’t want to be touched. Clearly being touched scared the shit out of him.  


Of course, Tony would always pull away. He wasn’t about to hug someone who didn’t want it, to put his hands on someone just because they couldn’t seem to say no. He always felt like such a bastard afterward, too. Why couldn’t he get it through his head that his friend didn’t want his personal space invaded? Why was it that the others were always forgetting as well?  


Just the other day, Clint had come up behind Bruce and clasped the guy’s shoulders with his strong hands, giving them a massage-like squeeze. Bruce had yelped in surprise, his muscles visibly tightening. Then, trying to hide the anguish in his face, he had mumbled, “It’s okay, Clint. I’m okay. You’re allowed to do that if you want to.” Clint had stopped, of course, and apologized for startling him.  


Later, Clint told Tony that he just couldn’t keep his hands off Bruce. “He’s just so… so… touchable. Kinda vulnerable I guess. It makes you want to cuddle him up, you know?”  


Yeah, Tony knew. But it disturbed him that Bruce didn’t appear to have agency over his own body. It was like he didn’t think it belonged to him, like anyone could just do whatever they wanted, touch him however they wanted, whether he liked it or not. He spent a lot of time wondering why Bruce couldn’t set boundaries. And he spent just as much time trying not to imagine the possible reasons – they were all too awful to think about.


	2. Just Say It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a "save the poor sweet baby" sort of mood today. Who's with me?

The next time Tony forgot himself and put his hands on Bruce it was just the two of them in the house and they were having a good time together, laughing at a meme on Tony’s phone. Bruce turned to grab his glass of water from the windowsill where he had placed it just as Tony scrolled down and found another one, even funnier. 

“Ha! Check this out!” he said, reaching behind him and grabbing his friend’s forearm without taking his eyes off the screen. “You’re gonna love this, buddy.”

His fingers gave away Bruce’s demeanor before he even turned to look as they encircled the tightening flesh. He let go and faced Bruce, who had shut his eyes and looked as if he might pass out.

“No, go ahead.” His voice was faint. “You can… you can touch me, Tony. Do whatever you want.”

Tony tried to make his face soft and disguise the anxiety he felt at what he was about to do next, what he had decided was the only way to help Bruce create the boundaries he so desperately needed and lacked completely, but it didn’t matter how he looked because the other’s eyes were still shut tight.

“You sure?” he asked carefully.

“It’s not up to me, you’re allowed to touch me.” He balled his hands into fists, appearing to brace himself against what was coming.

“Okay.” Tony moved closer, knowing he was about to make his friend very uncomfortable, and ran his fingers lightly up and down the clenched arm. “This okay?”

“Sure.” It was barely audible. He leaned his temple against the window in resignation. _Just waiting this out,_ Tony thought. _He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t want it. He should just say it._

“You can tell me no, Bruce. Tell me you don’t like this.”

Bruce started to speak, but his breath caught audibly in his throat and all that came out was a strangled sound. Then, after a moment, a trembling, “I can’t.”

At the sight of drops forming at the corners of the still shut eyes, Tony let his fingers fall from Bruce’s arm. He couldn’t let him hurt any longer. He waited until his friend had opened his eyes before speaking. 

“Bruce, buddy, you’ve got to let yourself say no. I’m worried about what could happen to you if you don’t stand up for yourself. People could take advantage of you, do whatever they want to you like you were gonna let me do.”

Bruce, who had wiped his eyes and now had no expression on his face, shrugged. Just shrugged as if it were nothing, as if it didn’t matter if he got taken advantage of. 

“Hey, did something happen to you?” Tony realized it was too blunt but kept talking anyway, his curiosity suddenly overpowering his social graces. “’Cause you seem like you’ve been hurt before. I mean, I know you sometimes get hurt when you turn into the big guy and smash everything to shit, but this is different, isn’t it? This goes deeper. Why do you have this crazy reaction to being touched, Bruce?”

He paused, realizing he was getting too personal. Bruce was a private person, he wasn’t going to open up.

“Sorry,” said Tony, “I don’t think you want to be having this conversation. Just know I’m going to look out for you, okay?”

_Just know I can’t leave you hurting like this,_ he thought.


	3. Holding Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the night, I think, but if I'm still sick tomorrow I'll hopefully be adding two or three more to finish it up. Happy reading and see you in the morning, dear reader!

“Put your hands on mine, don’t be scared.”

Bruce held out his shaking hands and bit down nervously on his lower lip. Slowly, he lay them on top of Tony’s, palm to palm. They were sitting on the couch, facing each other, and Tony was looking into frightened eyes that never quite met his. He was doing his best to ignore the fact that he knew the fear came from the exercises he was forcing his friend to do. Because even though Bruce was allowing this physical contact, in his mind there was no other choice. In his mind if someone told you to touch them, you did it, no questions asked.

“Th-they’re shaking,” Bruce noted with concern. “Is that okay?”

Tony spoke extra softly, doing his best to soothe, “Of course, of course it’s okay. You couldn’t do this wrong if you tried, Brucie.”

He brought his thumbs over the backs of the other’s hands and, leaving his palms flat, held them very lightly in his own. His partner whimpered and shook harder.

“You have all the power here. Tell me to let you go, and I’ll do it I swear. I’ll do it right away.”

More whimpering, then, “It’s not my choice. You don’t have to let go, Tony, you don’t have to do anything I say.”

“It’s your body, Bruce, you’re in control.” He stroked the hands with his thumbs. “These hands are yours. Tell me to let go, and I promise I’ll let go because you’re in charge of your own body. You’re the boss right now, buddy.”

Bruce cast his gaze down at his folded knees, his face full of shame, before murmuring a quiet confession: “I don’t know how to say it.”

“That’s okay, just repeat what I say. Alright, Brucie? Just say, ‘Don’t touch my hands.’ Okay? You think you can? ‘Cause I _know_ you can.”

As he drew in a long breath in preparation to say those most difficult words, Bruce’s trembling became so severe that Tony had to press his thumbs down harder than he had planned just to keep their palms together. But as soon as Bruce got out a swiftly whispered and near unintelligible, “Don’t touch my hands, Tony,” he released him as he said he would, and Bruce in his relief pressed his own hands to his chest and held them there, as if they were some treasured belonging once stolen and now, finally, returned to him.


	4. It's Worse if You Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me, or has the archive gone down a million times the past two days? Anyway, here's a teeny-weeny chapter that I hope you'll like. I know it's super short, but I hope to get another one or two up today if I can.

Over the next few days it became painfully obvious that Bruce had never so much as entertained the thought that his body might actually belong to him, and that he had a right to say no to any unwanted touch. They continued to practice, Tony touching him in various friendly ways, as many as he could think of – a hug, a hand clapped onto the shoulder or pressed warmly against the chest – and Bruce appearing incredulous each time he was told, “You can tell me to stop and I’ll stop right away, you have the power here.”

And Tony would withdraw his touch each time Bruce choked out the necessary words. With that reassurance, he began to trust and it became easier not only to say, “Stop,” but also to endure the touch. But just when it seemed that Tony done what he’d set out to do, there was one touch that Bruce couldn’t say no to.

As part of the practice, Tony sat close to Bruce and put his hand on his knee. Bruce had been talking animatedly about an exciting breakthrough in one of his science experiments, but he immediately froze mid-sentence and curled his hands into tight fists, sinking as low as he could into the couch cushions as if he were trying to disappear.

“It’s okay, buddy, just tell me to stop like you’ve been doing. Tell me you don’t like me touching you like that. You don't like it, right? Say that.” Tony kept his hand in place, wishing that Bruce could enjoy it, that they could just sit like this sometimes.

Tears filled Bruce’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks, but he didn’t move or make a sound.

“Come on, Brucie,” Tony tried to keep his voice very gentle, “you’ve been doing so good. You can do this. You know I’ll stop, don’t you?” He hated that he couldn’t scoop him up and hug him, that he could only attempt to comfort his friend with words when what he wanted to do was hold him and show him it would all be okay, he would be there for him.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, that was for sure, but what Bruce said next was enough to shake him to the core. “If I tell you I don’t like it,” he said, his voice breaking, “you’re gonna hit me. And if I struggle it’ll just hurt worse.” He took a deep breath to steady his voice and shut his eyes. “I'm supposed to let you, so just do it and get it over with.” 

Tony couldn’t pull his hand away fast enough. “I wasn’t going to do anything. Bruce, I was just putting my hand on your knee, nothing more, I- I swear. I promise this was just to help you practice saying no. I would never, never, hurt you in any way. You've gotta believe me, buddy.”

_Oh, God,_ he thought, his head spinning, _oh, fuck, someone did something terrible to him. What the hell did they do?_


	5. Saying No to Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last, so keep reading!

Steve was having a good day. After a night out with Sam, he had awoken to sunshine and a beautiful woman in his bed. Someone had sewn up the hole in his Captain America suit, he had finally learned to use his smart phone, and he had spent a refreshing afternoon in the gym. And now, to top it all off, Bruce Banner was cooking something delicious in the oven.

“What is that amazing smell, Bruce?” he asked as he sauntered into the kitchen.

“It’s just shepherd’s pie,” he said, “nothing special. Should be ready in about thirty minutes.”

“Are you kidding?” Steve slung his arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “That was my childhood favourite! Bruce, you’re the best.”

It was only a moment before he noticed the change in his friend’s demeanor. Bruce’s face tightened, his breath quickened, and his muscles contracted visibly, pulling his body in on itself until he looked physically smaller. They all thought it ironic that a guy who had the ability to get monstrously _huge_ tended to make himself as small as possible when he felt uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Steve said, about to pull away.

“Wait!” Tony put a hand up to stop him. “Wait, Cap, keep your arm around him for a minute. He knows how to communicate his boundaries now. Go ahead, Bruce, tell him you don’t like it. Tell him not to touch you.”

Bruce breathed harder, looking wildly around the room as if there might be someone else around to save him. Tony desperately wanted to step in and save him; Steve desperately wanted to let him go – but both knew this was for the best.

“Go on, you can do it. You’re allowed, Bruce. Use that big, strong voice and tell him he can’t touch you.”

“It-It’s okay,” Bruce whispered, shrinking further into himself.

“No, no, it’s not okay. You can trust Steve, but you don’t want him to touch you and that’s okay. You can trust that he’s not going to hurt you if you tell him no. He’s our friend, and he cares about you.”

Steve nodded in agreement and looked nervously from Tony to Bruce, hoping that one of them would end the exercise so he could take his arm away and stop being the jerk holding Bruce Banner hostage in his own kitchen.

Bruce closed his eyes. He leaned his head back onto Steve’s arm as if it was too heavy to hold up. He took a deep breath while Tony and Steve held theirs in anticipation. When his voice came out it was quick and very quiet, the words tumbling out in one short breath. 

“Please don’t touch me Steve.” 

All three men breathed sighs of relief as the Captain was finally allowed to drop his arm. 

“You did good, buddy,” Tony said, twisting his hands together in order to resist the urge to pat Bruce on the back. “You did real good.”


	6. Holding On

Later, Tony found Bruce in the lab. 

“Hey,” he said, “can I talk to you for a minute?”

Bruce looked up from what he was working on only momentarily; when he saw the serious look on Tony’s face he averted his eyes, mumbling, “I’m kind of in the middle of something, Tone.”

“Then I’ll be quick. I just wanted you to know that whatever happened to you, it’s not going to happen anymore. I won’t let it happen.”

Bruce looked at the floor. He spoke so quietly that Tony had to get closer just to hear him. “I used to… get hurt sometimes.”

“I know, I can tell. It fucking kills me. Who was it, will you tell me? Was it your parents?” 

Bruce bit his lip. He hunched his shoulders in the same way he had with Steve in the kitchen, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear. “Some of it... Tony, I’ll tell you, but could you not look right at me when I talk? It’s embarrassing to tell this stuff. It’s going to change the way you think of me.”

Tony looked away, focusing on the wall but listening intently, straining to hear his friend’s quiet voice over the pounding of his own heart. The truth was, he was afraid to hear what kind of hell Bruce had experienced. A part of him didn’t want to know because he knew it would break his heart.

“I don’t want you thinking it was both my parents. I mean, my mom was great while she was alive. She didn’t know the extent of it… but _him_ … he always found a reason to punish me… hurt me a lot… sometimes I see you lift your hand to touch my hair, Tony, and I think you’re about to hit me…”

He trailed off and Tony winced, realizing the pain he had caused by being careless and forgetting his own house rules.

“I don’t remember how old I was,” Bruce continued softly, “when the other men started coming to the house. Maybe nine or ten? I don’t know. They wanted to do stuff… to my body, you know... I was scared, but they liked that I think. I wasn’t allowed to refuse. Dad would say that they already payed, that I had no choice… it was always worse if I tried to stop it. But I guess if I had been better to begin with, it never would have happened.”

“No, Bruce.” Tony spoke through gritted teeth, his voice harsher than he’d meant it to be. He couldn’t help it – with the rage he felt right then he could have blasted the entire planet to pieces. “ _Nothing_ you did made them do those things to you. It was _not even close_ to being your fault, understand? As far as I’m concerned, your dad and those other men are worse than any villain we’ve fought, and I won’t let villains like that get anywhere near you.”

“Tony?”

He could feel Bruce looking at him, but he kept his word and stared at the wall.

“Is it okay if I _want_ you to touch me now? Because I think I’d feel better if you would… you know… um, put your arms around me or something. I don’t know if that’s weird…”

Tony swallowed the lump forming in his throat and went to him. “Oh, Bruce, of course it’s not weird, of course not.” Carefully, he put his arms around his friend, and for the first time he felt the warm body sink into his embrace. He held him close, feeling that he was relaxed but shaking. “It’s okay, Brucie. I won’t hurt you. You can tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

Bruce let out a whimper and clutched Tony’s arm with both hands. “No, don’t let go of me.”

That’s when Tony realized the shaking he was feeling wasn’t tension; Bruce was sobbing.

“Okay, buddy.” He leaned down and kissed the top of his friend’s head, then rested his cheek in the unkempt hair, bringing a hand up to push his fingers through the curls on the back of his neck, and pulled him closer. “Okay, I won’t let you go. I love you so much, Brucie. I promise I won’t ever let you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the end. I don't know about you all, but I've got my fix of poor Bruce and protective Tony for the day. I hope you didn't mind the sappiness (I like me some sappy, sorry). And tune in for my next fic that I might start writing tonight, wherein the team plays spin-the-bottle and things might get a little hot and steamy!


End file.
